Another Brother
by Evening Starbossa
Summary: When Erik's long-lost sister comes looking for him, is he ready to face the past and overcome his bitterness?
1. The Search Begins

_**A/N: The story ideas continue coming-unfortunately it's never for a story I'm already working on! Sorry for the long wait! I'll probably have more time to work on those after August! Anyway, here's the latest idea! I hope you enjoy it! As always, I do not own Phantom of the Opera or any of its characters!**_

__**Her mother had told her of another brother,** her firstborn, who had a face that gave her nightmares ever since he was born. She had confessed that she had sold him, as soon as he was weaned, and how the nightmares had continued several years afterward, until Julia herself had been born. Still, her mother had said, the memory of that face had never left her. As the years had gone on and as Julia's brother and sister had been born, her mother said that so often, it had been on her mind that she had grown used to it. Now, it no longer haunted her or filled her with fright. Now, she was filled with guilt and remorse.

And she was dying.

"Find him," her voice was weak, but the order was clear and firm. "You must find him and tell him I'm sorry."

"What's his name? Where do I begin?"

"Erik...Erik James Dupree...he might not be aware of his middle and last name. I...sold him to the gypsies...a traveling fair..."

"I'll find him, Mother. I promise...just don't go before I do..."

"I'll try, my child. I'll try.."

**For two months, Julia **attended every traveling fair she could find. No one had heard of such a child, but several offered to buy him if she ever found him. Disgusted and discouraged, she walked through a fair on the outskirts of Paris. _Perhaps he is no longer alive..._ What sort of comfort would _that_ bring to her mother? No...she had to keep trying.

She moved away from the crowds to where several performers were eating lunch. As she described her brother once more, their faces grew angry. "That murderous beast of a child? He's lucky he isn't here, else I'll strangle him myself!" Vowed a man with a rubber face, and his companions nodded in agreement.

"Please...what happened?"

"We called him the Devil's Child...a face like that, it had to be true. He strangled a man and ran off with some girl from the opera house. No doubt he's long gone by now...no one there had seen him."

"The opera house?"

"Opera Populaire. Not that it's any use to you. He's not there."

"Thank you, Monsieur..." she moved to walk away, but a hand grasped her shoulder. Whirling around, she saw it was the man she'd been talking to, his eyes now full of greed.

"I'll be paid for that information, Mademoiselle..."

"I only have a few coins..."

"That's not what I mean." He pressed his rubbery lips to hers, and she bit down on them. Hard. He stumbled back, slapping her. "Viper!" He growled.

"Fredrique, you're on!" a voice called, and he snarled at Julia.

"Where are the coins?" She slowly moved her hand to her pocket, but he got there first, tearing the pocket clean off and leaving a gaping hole in her dress, which she quickly covered up with her cloak. Wiping at his bleeding lips, he continued to glare. "You will pay for that as well...if you find that beast of an ingrate...you will bring him to me. If you don't, I _will_ find you." With that, he turned and went to where his crowd was waiting. Julia shuddered and quickly left the fair, in search of the opera house or a place to leave her own lunch, whichever came first.

**The opera house **was easy enough to find. Unable to afford to attend the next night's production, she went around back to the stables. Using the service entrance she was immediately caught up in the chaos of everyone preparing for the show. She ducked inside an empty room to get out of the way. Finding a seat, she fingered the hole in her dress. "That's quite a tear..." she whirled around to see a young man watching her.

"I..I'm sorry...I thought I was alone..."

"No...I apologize for startling you." The speaker moved forward, and she replaced the cloak over the hole. "I'm Henri Reyer...my father's the conductor here...I play the violin..."

"Julia Dupree...I did not mean to sneak in...I'm looking for someone..."

"I could try to help, if you like...I know pretty much everyone here. But first, let's fix that dress. You'll find several of the stagehands here have eyes where they don't belong." Henri led her through several corridors to where the wardrobe mistress was fixing last minute "emergencies" for the performers. "Madame Gruin, when you have a moment, I have a young lady here who could use a bit of thread..."

"Yes, yes, of course...get in line, Mademoiselle..." Satisfied that she would be taken care of, Henri left with the promise that he'd return. Julia looked from him to the line of countless performers waiting.

"I could do it myself, Madame...it looks like you could use some help..."

**By the time **Henri returned to fetch her an hour later, he found her sitting beside Mme. Gruin, her dress freshly patched, and now working just as expertly and quickly as the older woman, sewing and mending costumes for the younger dancers. If he hadn't just met her in the stables, he would have said that she was right at home here. He watched as she entertained the little girl she was aiding, letting her get a closer look at the stitches she was making and even allowing her to pull the thread through a couple times. Finally, the tear was mended, and she made a small joke as she carefully handed the girl's precious doll over to her, as if it were a real baby. The girl hugged it close, then hugged Julia before skipping out of the room past him. Julia, watching the girl and smiling brightly, inevitably laid her eyes on him, and he could not help but return the smile. "Might I steal you away from your needles for a moment, or would you care to continue your search later?"

"When is the next time you're free?" Her face changed from pure joy to perhaps torn and a bit guilty for having forgotten, even for an hour.

"I have rehearsals in an hour, but after supper I have at least another three hours free while my father takes care of final changes to the arrangements." Wanting to ease the torn feeling she was wrestling with, he decided to turn the question on her. "What time must you be home?"

"I...I'm not from around here...I'm afraid I don't have a place to stay..." Shame replaced the torn look, and he wasn't sure which was worst.

"Let me speak to a few people. I will find you a bed for as long as you need. When I fetch you for supper, I'll have an answer." With a nod, he was gone, and it took her a moment to realize his promise was laced with an invitation to supper, with him as her escort. Blinking with shock, she turned to Mme. Gruin. As if reading her thoughts, a small smile appeared on her face though her eyes never left her work.

"You may help yourself to any of the dresses on the rack farthest to the back, on the left."

"Thank you so much, Madame...I'll be sure to repay you..."

"I don't need payment. Only a temporary assistant as long as you're here."

"I'd be more than happy to." Julia smiled before motioning to the next little dancer.

**Henri arrived just as **Mme. Gruin was putting the finishing touches on Julia's hair. As she turned around to respond to his knock on the doorway, he couldn't believe this was the same girl he'd encountered in the stables. Gone were the dirt smudges and tangled hair, and her torn dress had been replaced with a pale blue gown. The turquoise pendant she wore around her neck caused her blue eyes to stand out all the more, and he had to clear his throat before speaking. "Are you ready for supper, Mademoiselle?" Only when Madame Gruin nodded in approval did Julia take a step toward the young man before them. Seeing her cheeks redden, Henri realized he'd been staring into her eyes. Clearing his throat again, he offered his arm. She silently took it, and a shyness surrounded them both as they made their way into the dining hall. Henri quickly led her past the tables full of curious eyes toward a smaller table close to the front. "Father, I'd like you to meet Mademoiselle Julia Dupree. Julia, this is my father, Monsieur Reyer."

"How do you do, Mademoiselle?" The elderly man stood and took her hand, and in one motion he both bowed and kissed it.

"I'm very well, thank you..." Julia's voice was quiet, and Henri could tell that she was not used to such kind treatment and formalities. Wanting to ease her discomfort, he spoke up.

"Julia will be assisting Madame Gruin for as long as she's here. It was her own idea."

"How very thoughtful of you, dear..." the woman seated next to Monsieur Reyer smiled genuinely at her.

"Julia, this is the ballet mistress, Madame Giry. Seated next to her is her daughter, Marguerite. Madame Giry will be showing you your room later on."

"Oh, thank you, Madame!" Julia grinned with relief.

"You're most welcome, dear. Please, sit down before your food gets cold." Madame Giry motioned to the chair on the other side of Monsieur Reyer. Henri was quick to pull it out for her, and only after he was sure she was comfortable did he take his own seat on her other side.

**Minutes into the meal,** Henri finally spoke up. "Julia, perhaps now you could tell us who you're searching for? Those of us at this table have been here the longest, and so we'd be sure to know."

"I can't say much other than what my mother told me. His name is Erik...Erik James Dupree. He has a face that is quite noticeable, and I don't see it in this room. Perhaps the man at the fair was right in saying he's no longer here..." Her voice was cut of by the sound of Madame Giry's fork clattering to her plate.

"Excuse me, child, but do you speak of the gypsy fair?"

"Why yes...just outside the city..."

"Antoinette, are you alright?" Monsieur Reyer questioned upon seeing the woman's face pale.

"Oh...yes...I'm quite alright...it's just been a tiring day..." Madame Giry threw him a reassuring smile, and as she picked up her fork, Julia glanced at Meg, who was now looking up at her mother with an expression that told Julia that she was not convinced.

_**A/N: Don't worry, our favorite Phantom will make an appearance soon! I have the first part of the next chapter written already, so stay tuned! Feel free to review...I love the feedback! :)**_


	2. Revealing Secrets

_**A/N: Here's the next chapter! Again, I do not own Phantom of the Opera or any of its characters!**_

** The meal continued** uneventfully, and except for all agreeing to keep their eyes open, nothing more was said about Julia's brother. Instead of feeling disappointed as she'd expected, however, Julia felt tiredness overriding any other emotion. As the dining room emptied, Henri moved to help her stand. "Madame Giry will see you to your room now. I trust you'll be at breakfast in the morning?"

"I believe so..." All her exhaustion was forgotten in that moment she looked into his eyes. It was very clear that he'd grown fond of her in the few hours they'd known each other, and shew as clueless as to how to respond. She knew he would not be a threat like the man with the rubber face, however. As his face came to her mind, she let out an involuntary shudder.

"Come dear...a warm bed awaits you..." Madame Giry placed a gentle hand on her shoulder, and she was brought back to the present.

"I look forward to breakfast, Julia..." Henri smiled as he took her hand in his, his lips brushing against her knuckles. "Sleep well."

"Good night..." Julia's voice was quiet, and it was several moments before he finally released her hand and her gaze. Too soon, she was being led out of the room and down the corridors toward the dormitories. After sending Meg into a room with other ballerinas, Madame Giry took her to a small room at the end of the hall. Despite the lack of size, the furnishings and décor offered a cozy, warm feeling, and Julia felt herself grow ten times more exhausted.

"If you need anything, my quarters are across the hall. Keep the door locked...drunken stagehands tend to wander."

"Thank you, Madame..." Julia smiled.

"One more thing, child. It would not be wise to speak of your brother to anyone save who dined with you tonight. Rumors spread quickly and truth gets stretched and twisted."

"You know him, don't you?" Her conclusion was met with wide eyes and a pale face, but the ballet mistress slowly nodded, sighing.

"We will speak of it at tea tomorrow. But you must promise to keep this a secret. Not even my daughter knows." Recalling the girl's face at supper, Julia suspected Meg knew more than what she let on, but her dying mother depended on her finding out all she could.

"I promise." Julia assured her.

"Thank you dear. Good night..." Madame Giry smiled once more before going to quiet the girls down, and Julia slowly went further into her room, closing and locking the door. But it wasn't the stagehands she feared as she closed her heavy eyes in sleep. It was the man with the rubbery face, and her dreams were haunted by the memory of his face. Deep down inside, she hoped upon hope that her brother's face was not the same way.

**The next morning, **Julia learned just how early Madame Giry awoke. Just before dark turned to the light of dawn, a light knock sounded on her door, pulling her out of her nightmares. "Who's there?" Her voice was shaky, the faces from her dreams still fresh in her mind.

"It's me, child...Madame Giry..." The familiar voice and gentle tone filled her with relief, and she quickly rose and unlocked the door. Madame Giry stood in front of her, her arms full of a bundle of cloth. "Good morning, dear! I trust you slept well?" Not wanting to cause the ballet mistress's smile to disappear, Julia returned it.

"The bed was quite comfortable, Madame...much better than what I'm used to..."

"I'm glad to hear it. I've brought you some dresses for you to wear while you're here. They were discarded by the other girls, but I can assure you that they're still very lovely."

"Oh, Madame, thank you! I don't know how I could ever repay you..."

"There's no need, dear. I am more than pleased that you are here, even if it is for a short time."

"But, you don't know a thing about me, Madame...how can you be so kind?" Julia felt tears come to her eyes, whether from emotion or tiredness she didn't know. Madame Giry responded by setting the dresses on her bed and pulling her into a warm hug.

"It's because of your brother, my dear...but I will explain more of that later. Right now, get dressed before your escort gets here."

**Breakfast seemed to be a repeat** of the night before. A nervous shyness surrounded Henri and Julia, and it didn't go unnoticed by the others at their table. Knowing smiles passed between Monsieur Reyer and Madame Giry, and Meg tried to ease the tension by chatting casually with Julia about her country home. Talking about her family made her feel much more comfortable around them, but if she'd dared to look Henri's way, she would have shied away all over again to see the loving look in his eyes only grow.

**Later that day, **Julia found herself so absorbed in her sewing that she completely lost track of time. Madame Gruin had to touch her shoulder to get her attention, and as she looked up, she saw Madame Giry standing in the doorway. "Oh! I'm sorry..." Julia jumped up from her chair, nearly dropping the dress she'd been mending.

"It's quite alright dear. It happens to all of us. I can tell that you really enjoy your work." Madame Giry smiled.

They made their way back to the ballet mistress's own quarters, where a tray of tea and sweets were already set out on a small table. As they sat, Madame Giry poured the tea. "Normally my daughter joins me, but she was happy to take tea with the other girls this afternoon."

"I'll be sure to thank her when I see her next..." Julia smiled.

Several moments passed before either one of them spoke, and Julia wondered if she might have forgotten. That thought was quickly dissolved, however. "Now dear...regarding your brother..." Julia lowered her teacup in anticipation, and Madame Giry hesitated, glancing around the room as if she were afraid of something...or someone...Wanting to ease her fears, Julia placed a hand on Madame Giry's shaking hand, and the ballet mistress sighed. "I know him, as I said, and he is alive."

"Is he well?"

"It depends on what you mean by the term 'well'. He's a lonely man, my dear...he's had much pain in his life, and it's made him bitter."

"Is...is he bitter toward my mother?" Julia wondered how on earth she would tell this to her mother when she saw her again.

"He's bitter toward everyone and everything, my dear...he hates the world but refuses to take his own life...it's...as if he feels like he deserves to live the rest of his life punishing himself...he's locked himself in his own dungeon...the only thing keeping him alive is his music..."

"Music?" Aside from her mother's lullaby's when they were infants, Julia could not recall any exposure she and her siblings might have had. There had been some in the fairs she'd visited, and so perhaps he had picked up something there.

"Yes...there's not an instrument he hasn't taught himself to play. He has become a genius in that field...it's just such a shame that that talent is kept to himself and himself alone to hear...I only know of it from the few times I've caught him off-guard...and if I'd been anyone else, I would not be alive to tell it to you."

"He's that dangerous?"

"Oh, much worse, child...he passes the time when he's not composing by inventing all sorts of traps and torture methods. Believe me, there's not a single way one can get to him without a personal invitation. So far, that's only been me..."

"So...my journey was useless then...if he's that bitter towards us...then there's no way he'd find my presence welcome."

"Don't give up just yet, my dear. If I know him, he already knows you're here and the reason behind it, and if he didn't want you here, he would have made that very clear by now."

"H—how does he know?"

"He has eyes everywhere, my dear. He grew up making this opera house his domain. But do not fear him, child...the last thing he needs is one more person being afraid of him. What he needs is warmth and love."

"You were the one then...the one that man at the fair told me about...the girl from the opera house who helped him escape..."

"Yes...that was me...I was indeed a lot younger then...studying to be a ballerina, just as my own daughter is now."

"Could you not give him the warmth and love he needs?"

"Oh my dear...I wrestled with that very thought for so long...I should have been able to...but...I confess that I, too, was afraid. I witnessed that murder at the fair...that fear became a wall between us...I ended up leaving for a few years, when I got married and had Marguerite...her father died soon after, and so I came back here to work. By then, the friendship I had with your brother...it had changed considerably. Because I'd left, he no longer trusted me as much as he had. He no longer needed me to bring him supplies; by then he'd built several more passageways behind the walls throughout the entire building."

"Do you still talk to him?"

"Very rarely, my dear. Normally he leaves notes for me or for others that I am to deliver."

"If...I were to leave a note for him...would he read it?"

"You could try, my dear...I cannot guarantee how he'd respond, but it never hurts to try."

"I'll get started right away, then!" Julia dabbed at her mouth with the cloth napkin from her lap, and before Madame Giry could reply, she was out the door.

_**"Dear Erik,**_

_I cannot blame you if this letter is not met with your approval. Our mother has been tortured every night with the guilt that her actions have caused her and the thoughts of the pain they have caused you. She has sent me to tell you how sorry she is. If you are not forgiving, we completely understand. Just knowing that you are alive will be enough to let her die in peace. Please, take care of yourself. _

_Your sister,_

_Julia Dupree"_

**The caped figure** clenched the note in his gloved fist. This apology was far too little, far too late. He tossed the crumpled paper to the floor, startling a family of rats in search of food. Sighing, he tossed them a few crumbs of the bread that served as his supper, and they accepted his gift of apology right away. _If only it were that simple._ He glared at the ball of paper bitterly. Knowledge of a sister served only to add onto the list of people he hated. Yet he had watched her quick to aid the wardrobe mistress. He could not bring himself to think up ways of driving her away from his theater when she offered so much help. _Curses._ Frustrated, he decided to turn his thoughts toward his mother. _So...she's been tortured all my life because of what she did. Good! She more than deserves it! Now she has a bit of a hint as to the torture she put me through!_ Tossing the rest of his supper to the floor, he made his way back to the boat, ignoring the sounds of protest from his nearly empty stomach. _Let my mother go hungry with me!_

_**A/N: Told you he'd show up! ;) More soon! Keep the feedback coming! :)**_


	3. Sibling Rivalry

_**A/N: I'm absolutely LOVING the feedback! I'm so glad to know that you all are enjoying this story! Once again, I don't own Phantom of the Opera or any of its characters!**_

__**"Erik!"** Madame Giry froze at the doorway. Her masked friend was seated on the forest green sofa in the center of her quarters, and he was clutching her one photograph of herself when she'd been younger...about the time that they had met.

"Afternoon, Antoinette. You look lovely as always." His tone obviously did not match his words, but the compliment was far from sarcastic. The sarcasm came in his casual manner, but his eyes spoke of purpose.

"You cannot fool me. What is it? More notes? You could have left them-"

"I have nothing to deliver, at least not in the written form. My sister is here."

"She is..." Antoinette moved into the room and began tidying up, despite the fact that it was already spotless. Her shaking hands did not go unnoticed, and he rolled his eyes at her nervousness.

"Oh, sit down! You should know by now that I would not harm you!" He motioned impatiently to a side chair, which she quietly lowered herself to. She still refused to look him in the eyes, but he decided to push the hurt he felt about that to the back of his mind.

"She's...concerned about you, Erik..."

"I do not wish to see her, nor are you to tell her more than you've already revealed. Yes, I heard your conversation, but I want nothing to do with anything nor anyone from my past."

"I can't very well send her away...she's traveled so long..."

"I know you can't. Your heart has always been tender, else you never would have looked my way more than once." He set the photograph down on the coffee table with a sigh.

"What do you wish for me to do?" Her tone was that of a humble servant, and the feeling of hurt crept back up to the forefront of his mind.

"She must be distracted until she forgets about me altogether. I know how much of a help she has been to the wardrobe department, and that's a good start. However, she mustn't have a bit of time in her schedule in which she might go snooping about. I cannot be held responsible should she wander into one of my traps."

"Oh, Erik, I can't work her to death!"

"Where on earth did you get that notion? Or are you no different from everyone else in thinking me a monster?"

"Erik...please...lower your voice...my daughter..." Tears welled up inside her eyes, causing him to sigh again.

"That young violinist...Henri Reyer...he has feelings for her, does he not?"

"It appears so..." Her voice shook as she held back the tears, and he paused long enough to hand her a handkerchief.

"Then we shall help their relationship along. You will seat her in Box Five for all the performances, and he is to escort her to all the parties and celebrations. Time must be allowed for them to go on outings around Paris. And should the subject of myself ever come to surface, the conversation must be changed."

"Now how can I possibly control what they talk about?" Antoinette finally looked at him, and he slowly grinned.

"Very simple. You will be their chaperone."

"Oh, Erik! You know how busy I am! I barely have time for my own daughter!" His response was to stand, pausing at the fruit bowl to examine its variety before finally choosing a fairly large bunch of plump white grapes. Popping one into his mouth, he made sure she was looking at him before speaking again.

"I don't care if you resort to taking your daughter along with you. You will see that no harm comes to my dear, concerned little sister. Your orders are clear, Antoinette. I expect obedience." With a flip of his cape, he was gone, leaving Antoinette to finally release her tears.

**That night, as Julia** sat down in Box Five, whispers and mumblings made their way around the performers. "Are you quite certain of this, Madame Giry?" Monsieur LeFevre raised his eyebrow.

"Oh, he was very clear, Monsieur." Antoinette assured the nervous manager.

"Very well. But I'll have you know that you will be held responsible should anything happen to her."

"I'm aware of that, Monsieur. But it wouldn't be wise to cause the performers to be distracted any further with talk of danger."

"Very true, very true..." Monsieur LeFevre sighed, turning to get the performers in their places.

Julia, unaware of the oddity of her presence in this particular Box, let alone the danger, focused in on the young violinist warming up his instrument. He was directly in her line of vision, and acknowledged her presence with a smile and nod. Julia blushed in return and had to suppress a giggle. Growing up in the countryside, she had no idea this could happen so quickly. But she could not deny that she was growing fond of him, and he of her. _What of Mother?_ The sudden thought caused a bit of panic to rise up inside her. She would have to return soon, with at least the news that her brother was alive. _What of my brother?_ He was bitter; Madame Giry had made that perfectly clear. If she were to leave him behind, it would only go to show that they didn't care at all...that all that mattered was that he was alive, and they didn't have to worry. _What sort of peace is that?_ No...she had to stay and try. Perhaps a message could be sent to her mother the following day. _Yes, I can do that at least. Then she'll know we're both alive._ Her last thought before the performance began was the hope that her mother would still be alive upon delivery of the message.

The few tears that managed to fall from her eyes at the thought of her dying mother did not go unnoticed. From the orchestra pit, Henri watched as she hunched over in her chair, a hand subtly coming to her cheek as she tried to hide her sad face. From behind the curtain to her back, her brother watched as she struggled with her mask. _Try mine._ He wondered at how she could possibly find a reason to cry. She'd had their mother's love all her life. He'd been thrown out into the cold, left to fend for himself among the gypsies. _You'll never have my sympathy, little sister. So you might as well enjoy the opera. It's the only gift you'll get from me._ Despite his hatred, he continued to study her. Not one blemish marked her face. In fact, he could easily see how the violinist had fallen so quickly for her. _Good for them._ As far as he was concerned, they were better off falling in love quickly and taking their fondness for each other elsewhere.

Before he could be detected, he quietly made his way back into his passages, unaware that his presence had indeed been felt, and now his sister was studying the curtain, searching for the slightest hint of movement. Finding none, she wiped the last of her tear away and turned back around, throwing a reassuring smile Henri's way.

**The following week** went by just as Erik had ordered it. With Antoinette's help, a riverside picnic was arranged for the following afternoon, as well as a shopping trip the day after that. He was not, however, expecting his old friend to leave a parcel for him, purchased by Julia herself. _With my own money at that..._he growled bitterly at the irony. A good part of him wanted to ignore the package altogether. But it had been his money after all. He could think of it as a gift from himself. Satisfied with that conclusion, he slowly peeled away at the brown paper, but when he saw what was revealed, he had to sit down on the floor. Inside was a scarlet scarf and glove set, wrapped around a music box in the shape of a miniature organ. _H—how did she know?_ Not even Antoinette was aware of his own music box that brought him comfort night after night. His hands shook as he slowly wound it up, and the tune was one he didn't recognize. He looked back at the packaging and found an envelope. Carefully setting the box aside, he opened it up.

"_Erik,_

_This song was one our mother sang when we were very small. You more than deserve to hear it as well. I know this doesn't even come close to making up for all that you had to endure, but we all must start somewhere. I pray that this tune brings comfort to you tonight. _

_Your loving sister,_

_Julia"_

_She bought me a lullaby..._ The simple truth caused his previous conclusion to be forgotten. This wasn't just any lullaby...it was one that he'd missed out on...and she was giving him that experience. Is this what sorry felt like? Is this what it felt like to be truly apologized to? To have someone willing to completely change due to how they'd acted toward him? How was he to respond? He knew how to respond to hatred and unjust...but love? _No...love doesn't sell one's own children!_ Angry tears made their way under his mask, and he slowly lifted it off to wipe at them. _Curse you, little sister, for making it harder to hate you!_

**"What do you mean, no more notes?"** Antoinette gaped at her friend. He'd surprised her once again by appearing in her quarters, and she didn't like it. But he had given her no time to speak her mind before he told her his new wishes.

"Was I not clear enough?" Erik snarled, his eyes showing that he hadn't slept the night before. "My sister is not to contact me. What part of that did you not understand?"

"You won't even allow her to try to make amends? Oh, Erik, how cruel can you be? She is not your mother..."

"No, but she is by her own admission acting on my mother's behalf! I care nothing about what troubles my mother. It is nothing compared to what I had to endure due to her actions and her's alone! Whatever guilt she is feeling is no fault of mine!"

"This is no way to deal with your past. Your anger and hatred cannot change what has happened anymore than her apology can. But at least she's trying! She's realizing that she was wrong!"

"She should have known before she did it!"

"Well she didn't, and we can't help that now! Honestly, Erik, you can't keep pushing away those who care about you! And you wonder why you're so lonely-" The ballet mistress's rant was cut off by his hand grasping her jaw as if she were no more than a stubborn child. "Go ahead and strike, Erik. You'll get no further help from me."

"I don't need your help."

"No, you don't, and yet you continue to use me as your voice. Why?" The two studied each other for several moments, his grip slowly loosening before he slightly shoved her away.

"That will be all, Madame Giry. You'll deliver nothing more from my sister. I don't care what you do with the messages she does write, just so long as I don't see a word of them. Am I clear?"

"Perfectly." Antoinette's voice was cold and shaky with anger she was swallowing back.

"Good. Have a good night." With that, he stormed out of the room, and for the first time in ages, she was unsure as to whether or not she could live up to those final words from him.

_**A/N: Goodness I had no idea I could write such intense scenes between Erik and Antoinette! Fear not, there's a reason behind his apparent cruelty toward her! Until I get to that, keep the feedback coming and stay tuned! :)**_


	4. An Unmistakeable Face

_**A/N: All your feedback is a great encouragement and motivation! Thank you! As always, I do not own Phantom of the Opera or any of its characters.**_

__**"Alright, Julia...you may open your eyes."** Henri's secretive tone made it clear he was trying so hard not to chuckle at her confusion. It had been a month since her arrival, and they had only grown closer as the days had passed. Now, she was seated in the conservatory of the Opera House, surrounded by all sorts of flowery scents and the warmth of the spring sun shining down on her through the giant glass windows. Her focus, however, was on the item he had placed on her lap—a gift far too heavy to be a bouquet of flowers. Slowly, she opened her eyes, and as she glanced down, a gasp escaped her lips. There sat a brand new violin, beautifully carved.

"I...I don't know how to play..." She admitted, though her hands began to caress the smoothed wood.

"I thought you might like to learn. What a pair we'd make, strolling through all the parks of Paris, our violins singing in perfect harmony..." It was the first time he'd spoken of their future together, and her stomach fluttered with nervousness. He chuckled at her blush before lowering himself to the bench next to her, gently lifting the instrument into his hands.

"Oh, Henri...I...I don't know what to say...I don't know the first thing about music..."

"I'll teach you everything I know..." His voice was quiet and soothing as he took her hand in his. "You've the perfect hands for the violin...your fingers long and slender...and your face..." Dropping her hand, he began tracing her profile with his thumb. "I see it a few years from now...your eyes closed in concentration...a smile upon your lips as you let the music flow freely inside and through you...the audience will adore you, yet you won't notice them...you'll be too lost in the notes you play...the notes we play..." Slowly, he leaned closer to her, and so lost was she in his eyes that when his lips softly brushed against hers, it took her a while to realize what was happening. These were not the rubbery lips of the gypsy performer, forcing their way into a crushing kiss. These were the lips of a man that had proved himself to care deeply about her. He would not harm her. He would not betray her trust. Slowly, she returned the kiss, relaxing against him as she closed her eyes.

Moments passed, but it seemed like forever in a single second as they slowly pulled apart. His smile was soft as he caressed her face once more before picking up the violin again. "Say you'll try...say that I may teach you..."

"I...I'll try..." Julia managed in a voice just above a whisper. The smile turned into a grin as he stood, patiently helping her hold the violin in the correct position.

**Erik felt sick to his stomach** as he watched the scene on the other side of the wall. He'd arranged for the violin to arrive at the opera house, making sure that it was seen as an extra one, available for whomever could use it. He'd known that Henri would think of Julia. He'd seen him watch her with such focus, particularly as he played. He'd seen her fingers move across the railing of Box Five, trying to move with the music that was being performed. But now, watching them, he wanted to call off the entire thing. He was now realizing that by pushing her away and into the violinist's arms, he was giving her something that he couldn't even dream about. _No one will ever look at me the way she looks at him._ Fighting back tears, he forced himself to turn away and return to his lair. Studying his sister and figuring out how to really rid himself of her would have to continue at a later time—without the violinist present.

**Weeks passed, and **Julia immersed herself in her sewing and in her lessons. Henri proved to be an able and patient teacher, and no matter how often she caused her strings to squeak, he always found a way to encourage her while making a joke of it. Thus far, she had been accused of beating him in trying to reach the highest note, perfecting a mating call for rats, and attempting to create the first soprano violin. Each time, she found herself laughing harder than him, struggling to regain her composure before attempting to play again.

The day she played her first complete song, straight through with no errors, he had somehow known she'd be able to do it. As she finished the last measure, he stood behind her, waiting for the moment when she would first lower the violin to her lap. She did so with her hands shaking, as if she couldn't believe what she'd just accomplished. "That was beautiful, Julia..." He commented, taking a box from his pocket. As she went to turn around to face him, he quickly draped a golden chain around her neck, clasping it behind her. Taken aback, she slowly lowered her gaze to the pendant: A rose of rubies, surrounded by emerald leaves.

"H—Henri...I...I couldn't possibly..."

"You deserve it, Julia...you've worked hard. But that's not the entire reason for the gift."

"W—what is it?" Deep down inside, she felt she knew the answer already, especially when she allowed her eyes to meet his.

"I've grown quite fond of you, Julia...so much more than I could ever imagine. Your beauty was something I noticed straight away, but it's been your inward beauty...the way you jumped in to help with the sewing...the way you act around the younger girls as if they were your own children...your loyalty to your family...and your willingness to try something completely foreign to you...that's what I've fallen in love with. I love you, Julia Dupree...and I hope to get the chance to fall even more in love with you every day for the rest of my life." He paused then, long enough to make his way around the bench so that he could kneel in front of her. Reaching into his pocket once more, he retrieved the diamond ring that had served as his own mother's engagement ring. His father had given it to him shortly after her passing, with the assurance that she would have wanted him to have it. Now, he held it up for her to see it quite clearly, so that she could not mistake his intent for anything else. "Marry me, Julia...Say you love me...now and always...as I love you..."

Silence filled the conservatory as he waited for her reply. What he didn't expect, however, was the tears that flowed and the torn look that returned to her face. His heart sank as he realized that she might not accept his proposal after all, and he wondered if he'd mistaken the looks she'd been giving him. _What can I do? How can I fix it?_ He wanted to ask her even before she spoke. "Oh, Henri...I...I..." She was nearly clutching her stomach now, and he knew that she wasn't about to accept.

"Darling, what is it? Did I move too fast?" He moved to sit next to her on the bench, taking her face in his hands and brushing at the tears. "We can wait...I can wait..."

"Henri...it...it's not that...I...I do love you...and...I do want...I want to marry you...but...m—my mother...my brother...I...I've forgotten them...and she's dying..." She was clinging to him now, and he quickly set the violin on the floor before pulling her into a hug. "I need to go back..." Her voice was a whisper as she rested her head on his shoulder, her body shaking with sobs. He pulled her closer, stroking her hair and fighting back his own tears.

"My love...my beautiful Julia...I nearly forgot myself about your mission here...Do not burden yourself any further...I'll see to your journey home personally and will act as your escort. Just tell me when you'd like to go..."

"I don't wish to return before I've spoken with him...but perhaps..perhaps I never will...I would rather return a failure than have her die without closure..."

"Have you heard anything at all from him?"

"Sometimes...sometimes I feel like I'm being watched...especially when watching the operas...but he hasn't even left me a note..." Julia paused to sniffle, wiping at her tears. "If he wanted to speak to me...he would have by now..."

"Darling, don't give up...I know how persistent you are and I can see how much you care about him. If it's your mother you're worried about, we could return to her for a little while...let her know what you've learned. Then, we'll come back here and finish what you've started. Once he realizes just how much you care, perhaps then he will be more open."

"You would do that for me? Take time away from your performances to escort me home?"

"For you, I would give up the violin completely if it meant turning your worries into happiness..."

"Oh, don't do that! Who would I play with then?" The hint of a smile made its way onto Julia's face, and he touched it with his own smile before caressing her face.

"Then it's settled. We'll start out tomorrow, first thing." He took her hand in both of his, kissing her knuckles. "Besides. I'll need to get your mother's blessing."

**Before the break of dawn** appeared on the horizon, Julia was making her way out to the stables where the carriage was waiting. Henri had sent her on ahead while he gathered last minute supplies; the day before he had spent an hour convincing both his father and Madame Giry that the driver would be a capable chaperone. As Julia made her way past the stalls, she thought she heard the rustling of hay. Looking in that direction, she was met with the sight of a shadowy figure approaching her. As he moved past one of the lanterns, she gasped—there was only one man with that face, and he was the last man she wanted to meet ever again. "I told you I'd find you, little viper. And now, I will be paid."

**"Are you ready, Julia?"** Henri's voice was cheerful despite the early hour as he opened the carriage door. He was puzzled to see the empty seat, and he paused long enough to empty his arms of the supplies before walking to where the driver was hitching up the team. "Excuse me, but has a young lady been out here yet?"

"I've not seen her, Monsieur...perhaps she is still getting ready. You know how females are..."

"I suppose you're right...if she's not out here within the half hour, I'll go look for her." Henri made his way back to the carriage and got in, arranging the various bags and parcels to ensure their complete comfort. He would sit backwards, facing her, so as to avoid any temptation on their long journey. Sitting back, he allowed his mind to wander to all the different plans and possibilities their future would hold.

_**A/N: Mwahaha...yes I am that evil. But only because one of my sisters warned me against ending on a cliffhanger. So you can blame her. ;) Keep the reviews coming! Stay tuned! :)**_


	5. Face to Face

_**A/N: Attention: The author has heard your screeches, threats, and protests and does not wish for you to wait any longer! You may halt cease and desist the sharpening of your plastic forks and production of your punjabs! Here's more! As always, I do not own Phantom of the Opera or any of its characters!**_

__**Where was she?** Did she not know that the carriage was waiting for her? Erik stormed away from the stables, ready to break down her door and drag her to the carriage himself, no matter how 'ready' she was. As he passed by the chapel, however, he was distracted by the sound of weeping. _Who on earth could be in there at this hour?_ When he heard the all too familiar sound of someone being slapped, however, his back seemed to sting with the memory and his anger quickly returned. His sister would have to wait. He had justice to serve.

"Stop that crying, viper! You knew you had this coming!" A figure stood over the form of a young woman, lying bare on the floor against the back corner. Trickles of blood had made their way onto the stone floor at her side, and her hair, now loose, fell over her face like a wrinkled veil. "Now tell me where he is or I'll make you pay all over again!"

"I told you...I don't know!" Erik recognized that voice, and he stopped in his tracks. A bitter taste made its way into his mouth, but he swallowed it back. Sister or no sister, she was a victim now. No one deserved to punish her except for him, and even he would never have gone this far.

"Then maybe this will refresh your memory!" The man's hands went to his waistline, and Erik took that moment to make his appearance. Standing right behind the attacker, he reached out and yanked him back by the neck, using his arm as a solid punjab. Fingernails dug into his skin, but he waited until he'd gotten him on the opposite side of the room before he flung him against the wall. The attacker's eyes widened, but Erik was the first to speak in recognition.

"Fredrique!" He'd known the man with the rubber face. This performer had been one of the very few who had befriended him at the fair, doing tricks with his face to make Erik feel a bit better about his own face.

"Do I know you?" His tone was that of one who already knew the answer to his question, but his eyes spoke of unbelief.

"You know my face underneath this mask, Fredrique. We were friends once. Back when the world knew me as the Devil's Child."

"You ended that friendship when you committed that murder! You killed my uncle!"

"You saw how he treated me, Fredrique! You even doctored the wounds he gave me! I did what I had to! I couldn't keep living that way!"

"He was still my family! It is my duty to avenge him!"

"And it is my duty to protect my own sister from the likes of even you, Fredrique."

"Sister?" Fredrique looked once more at the huddled woman across the room. "The Devil's Child and the Viper...yes, I see the relation." To that remark, Erik slammed his forearm into Fredrique's throat, pinning him to the wall. The man was forced to struggle to breath, depending on his old friend for mercy.

"I will give you the chance that your uncle never had. You will leave here and never show your face anywhere near my sister again. If you do, you will be reunited with your dear precious uncle, your neck forever bearing the mark of my punjab. Am I clear?" Fredrique was only able to nod in response, and Erik escorted him out of the room. "You will find me a man of my word, Fredrique. Now get out of here!" The man with the rubbery face was barely able to regain the ability to breathe before he stumbled out of the opera house, and Erik watched him for several minutes before finally turning to face his sister. She was shaking now, watching him with widened eyes. Erik immediately removed his cape and wrapped it around her injured form.

"Erik..." Her whispered voice caused something to happen inside his chest, and he wasn't sure how to take it.

"Where did he hurt you?" Erik moved her hair aside and nearly gasped at the size of the bruise on her face.

"I—it feels like...all over..." Her constant flood of tears caused part of him to regret setting Fredrique free, but this was not the time for anger.

"I shall bring you to Madame Giry and send your beau to fetch the doctor."

"Then where will you go? Are...you to disappear on me all over again?"

"Focus on getting better, Julia. Do not concern yourself with me." Erik looked away from her pleading eyes and carefully lifted her into his arms. She immediately buried her face against his shoulder, and he had to close his eyes for several moments before he could order his legs to walk.

**Antoinette Giry** was understandably startled to see him appear at her door, especially upon seeing Julia clinging to him in his arms and wrapped in his cape. "Erik...what happened?"

"I'll explain later, Antoinette. Right now I must send Henri to fetch the doctor. In the meantime, take care of her."

"Of course." Antoinette was already moving toward her own bed, pulling back the sheets so he could lay his sister down. By now, she had cried herself to sleep, and Erik silently tucked the blanket around her before straightening and making his way to the door. Antoinette was on his heels, and she stopped him in the doorway. "Erik?"

"She was attacked on my behalf, Antoinette. That's all you need to know."

"Erik...please...don't disappear on her again...stay and talk to her..."

"I have fulfilled my duty as her older brother by coming to her rescue. She will be satisfied with that, as will you. Now if you'll excuse me, I must fill her beau in on what has happened." With that, he made his way back toward the stables.

**Henri quickly shook off **his shock of meeting the Opera Ghost upon hearing Julia's name. "Where is she?" The younger man moved to jump out of the carriage, but Erik stood in his way.

"She is being taken care of, but you are to get the doctor."

"O—of course...right away!" Henri yelled up to the driver, and the carriage was moving before he could fully close the door. Erik watched them depart, debating what his next move would be. Antoinette was more than capable of taking care of Julia without him, and soon the doctor would be there to see to her further care. He was not needed. _What if I want to be?_ The thought shook him, and he had to lean against the wall to keep from collapsing. Remembering how she had clung to him, his shirt balled up in her fists as her forehead rested on his shoulder...it was too much...far too much. Filling himself with new determination, he made his way back to the lake. _I cannot afford this weakness!_

**The doctor arrived** within fifteen minutes, and Antoinette gently pulled Henri away from the bed, leaving room for the professional to work. "I have to do something, Madame Giry...I can't just stand here..." His eyes were full of tears and frustration that he hadn't been the one to rescue her.

"You've done all you can, Henri...now she needs your prayers."

"I...I suppose you're right..." The violinist slowly lowered himself to the sofa, his eyes never leaving the bed. A soft knock at the door announced Marguerite's arrival, but it was nothing new. The few minutes this early in the morning were some of the only moments they had together before the busyness of the day called Madame Giry to her duties as ballet mistress.

"Come in, my dear..." Antoinette called, reluctantly leaving the violinist's side. The door slowly opened, revealing Meg's confused expression.

"Mother...what's going on?" Her tone of voice showed that she wasn't just speaking of the scene before her.

"Oh, my dear...I owe you a world of explanations, I know..."

"I already know, Mother...I've known for years now who the Phantom really is...I've met him..."

"How? When?" Antoinette moved them into the corridor, but not wanting their conversation to be overheard, she led them into Julia's room and closed the door.

"When I was a little girl...I was wandering around, and I found his home...I saw him...without the mask..."

"What?" Despite her shock, her voice remained at a whisper.

"He didn't hurt me, Mother...he was just as shocked as you are now, but he didn't hurt me..."

"But how? He has so many traps..."

"I...I don't know...perhaps...perhaps he did not have as many then...he warned me severely that I was not to go down there again, but he doesn't seem to mind me watching him when he comes up here..." At this, Madame Giry began rubbing her forehead, trying to take it all in. "I'm sorry, Mother..."

"Oh Meg...I'm not angry with you. I just have a lot on my mind..." Antoinette pulled her daughter into a hug. "We'll talk about this later. Right now, I need you to be available should the doctor or Henri need assistance."

"Where are you going to go?"

"I have an errand to run."

**"Antoinette, what **are you doing here?" Erik gaped at his old friend, now up to her waist in water from his lake.

"We need to talk."

_**A/N: In my defense, I was going to do the complete ending scene before the end of this chapter. But I didn't want this to be too long a chapter. Think of it as motivation to keep reading. ;) Keep the feedback coming, and stay tuned!**_


	6. New Revelations

_**A/N: Without further ado and threats, here's the next chapter! As always, I do not own Phantom of the Opera or any of its characters!**_

** "Did I not make myself** perfectly clear, Antoinette?" Erik attempted to bury his shock, but he nevertheless took a few steps back to allow the determined ballet mistress some room to step out of the water.

"You did, Erik. Now you will allow me to be just as clear." She moved closer, and Erik was forced to sit on the chair behind him or trip backwards over it.

"Very well. Say your peace and then leave me be! You are very lucky to be you, else you would be hanging by now!"

"Would you say the same of my daughter?"

"I do not threaten little girls. And if you had kept an eye on her, she never would have found this place."

"Forgive me for doing your every bidding, 'Master' Erik. I can only be in one place at a time!"

"You'll not take that tone with me! You forget, Antoinette, that you are in MY home now."

"Are you going to let me speak my mind, or are you not a man of your word?"

"Get on with it then! I have much work to do!"

"Erik, the only work you have to do is mending your relationship with your sister."

"We never even had one to begin with!"

"Silence!" Her sharp voice took them both by surprise, and despite her hands now shaking, she could not take it back. "By blood, you had a relationship beginning at her birth, whether or not you were present. Erik, you may have all of Paris fooled, but you cannot fool me. You're not a monster, you're a human being, and no human could ever be as coldhearted as you claim to be! You are capable of love, Erik, if you just try!"

"Every time I care, it only leads to further hurt! Hate is the only sure way of keeping the pain away!"

"And it's the surest way for you to remain lonely! You can't keep pushing us away!"

"What's the point of love? It never lasts! They end up letting you down or leaving you behind! Then you're left with more emptiness than ever before!"

"The point, Erik? You want the point? Yes, my husband died. Yes, I was left feeling empty and lonely. But because of that love, Marguerite was born. Because of that love, my husband had someone to be by his side as he lived and as he left the world behind. We supported each other when times were hardest. I miss him a great deal, but I don't regret loving him, and I never will!" Tears now spilled down her cheeks, but she kept her composure.

"No one will ever feel the same about me, Antoinette. No one. I came to accept that truth long ago. Perhaps it is time you learned to accept it. No one will love this!" He whipped the mask off his face, flinging it to the floor. The candlelight danced across his scars as he glared at her, daring her to do anything but admit that he was right. Instead, she shook her head, stepping closer.

"You're wrong, Erik." Slowly, she brought her hand to his face, and he gasped at the contact. Closing his eyes in anticipation for her disgust, he wasn't prepared for the feeling of her lips against his.

**Moments passed** before they finally pulled apart, and he was still as confused as ever. "You were always fearful of me!" His tone was that of accusation, and she sighed.

"Can you really blame me after I witnessed that murder? I had nightmares for months after that!"

"Why did you not say something then? We could have talked it over...I...could have eased your mind about the whole thing!"

"Erik, if it was just that one incident, I would have been able to get over it. But when you continued to make your traps and torture devices..."

"None of them were ever meant for you! Why could you not realize that?"

"I...I don't know...I...I'm sorry, Erik..."

"You're _sorry_? There was a time when I thought that you might actually love me...the way you tirelessly cared for me and helped me...and then you left...with him...I thought I'd never see you again..." He stood then, pacing the work room and fighting back his tears. "You always had that fear and nervousness around me...and it only emphasized the fact that you could never truly love me..."

"But I did love you Erik...I still do..."

"You loved him more! You were never fearful around him!"

"Erik, if I had known how you truly felt, I never would have given him another thought! But you always kept me at a distance..."

"Can you blame me?" He was repeating her words, but he looked at her with such longing and urgency that she didn't even notice the repetition.

"No...and I cannot keep hiding behind the past either anymore than you can. What's done is done, by your mother, by me, by you. There's nothing we can do to change the past, Erik. That much is certain. But we can change the present. We can change the future." She watched his shoulders shake for several moments as he finally let out the sobs. She longed to take him in his arms, but he had to decide this with no help from her. Helplessly, she lowered herself to the chair he'd left, wiping at her own tears.

"You love me?" His voice finally broke the silence, and she nodded.

"I love you, Erik James Dupree..." His full name sounded right passing through her lips, and she looked at him with a soft, careful smile. "Your sister told me your real name...your mother remembered it all these years..."

"Take me to her...I want to help..." He wiped at his tears, lifting Antoinette to her feet.

"You're the one with the boat, Erik..." She smiled more, and the two laughed a bit before returning to where Julia lay.

**The moment Julia** stirred, Henri was on his feet and at her side. The doctor had concluded that no bones were broken, but there would be several bruises and cuts all over her for the next week or so at least. The attack had been complete, however, but Henri vowed that it made no difference to how he felt about her. He would only ensure that he was at her side the rest of her life so that she would not have to fear it happening again.

As the doctor exited the room, he moved past Antoinette and Erik as they arrived. Both Henri and Meg were shocked to see them; more so to see Madame Giry on his arm. His mask had been forgotten, but Antoinette gave his arm a reassuring squeeze before they made their way through the doorway. "M—Mother?" Meg was the first to speak, and even then her eyes showed that she wasn't completely ready to use her voice. Antoinette smiled more before opening her arm for a hug. Meg slowly stepped into the embrace, her eyes never leaving Erik's face. Erik could not bring himself to be uncomfortable, however, for during their first meeting, her study of his deformity had been one of gentleness and compassion, never cruelty.

"Your mother and I shall explain everything later, Little Giry. At the present, we must focus on the care of my sister." As they sat upon the sofa, Henri relayed the details the doctor had given him, and it was agreed that they would begin the journey to take her home the following day, after all had rested. Erik and the Girys would accompany them; he insisted that Antoinette deserved a break and that Meg could use some time in the country, far away from the crowded city. With those details set, Madame Giry sent them all on their way so that Julia could rest. Henri was the hardest to persuade, but with Erik backing her up, Antoinette was soon able to get him out of the room. "I did not mean to frighten the boy..." Erik watched him hurry down the hall, and Antoinette giggled a bit.

"I'm sure his fear isn't permanent, Erik. Don't worry." She patted his arm, and he finally looked back at her.

"This will take some getting used to, Antoinette...this love..."

"You'll have a lifetime to get used to it, Erik. I'll help you, just as always."

"You've been so good for me, Antoinette...how could I ever repay you?"

"Just love me...that's all I ask of you." She kissed his cheek before sending him on his way. He had much to think over.

**Julia awoke late** that afternoon, after Erik had arrived to relieve Antoinette so that she could see to her duties. She'd only agreed to leaving, however, after promising to bring some food for him and for Julia should she wake up before she returned. The tray now sat on the coffee table. Erik had taken his share before covering the rest up to keep in the heat. Now, he was stroking his sister's hair and holding a cold compress to the bruise on her face. As her eyes fluttered open, it took her a while to realize who he was. He felt her eyes on his scars, and he instinctively closed his eyes, waiting. "It really is you..." she whispered, her hand slowly coming up to touch his face.

"Yes...it's me..." Erik sighed; he'd never get used to the feeling of a hand upon his face with such gentleness.

"You...didn't disappear..." Her hand fell to her side, and he slowly opened his eyes.

"In all honesty, I did. Madame Giry...talked some sense into me."

"Will you come meet our mother now?" To this, he nodded, a small smile coming to his face.

"We'll be leaving tomorrow, to give you time to heal." As if remembering all she had endured that morning, she shuddered, tears coming to the corners of her eyes.

"He...he stole my innocence, Erik...what do I tell Henri? How could he love me again, knowing that I've been used up?"

"He knows, little sister, and we still had to drag him from your side. He loves you the same, if not more so...you need not worry about him leaving you."

"You're...not bitter about that? Madame Giry said that-"

"No longer, Julia...she's expressed her own love toward me, as much as I don't understand it..."

"Oh Erik, I'm so happy for you! Isn't love the most wonderful thing?"

"It is, little sister...it really is..." Erik's smile grew then, and a few tears of joy rolled down his face. "Now, you must eat. It is time you got used to having an older brother around." He left her side only long enough to retrieve the tray, and when Madame Giry stole a peak into her room, she saw him spoon-feeding her the broth as she leaned against his shoulder. What a wonderful brother he made...and what a wonderful husband and father he would make someday. Suppressing a youthful giggle at the thought, she silently made her way back to where the dancers were waiting.

_**A/N: Boy, I'm really branching out from my usual Erik/Meg ship! But I figured that a.) I couldn't have such intense borderline cruelty between these two without something happening to repair it, and b.) if I was going to do this pairing sometime, it might as well be in this story. Just a couple chapters left, I think! Keep the feedback coming! Stay tuned! :)**_


	7. Bittersweet Reunion

_**A/N: Thanks so much for the support with the pairing! It means a lot! As always, I do not own Phantom of the Opera or any of its characters.**_

__**Though the beginning** of the journey was filled with the sound of Julia filling Erik in on what it was like to grow up in the countryside, as the carriage drew closer to their small village, silence soon won out. Erik had been holding Antoinette's hand since they'd entered the carriage, but now he clung to her as if his life depended on it. Eventually, she placed her free hand on his arm, attempting to comfort him. But his eyes were focused on the passing scenery, and she soon realized that he needed this time of silence to think and reassure himself.

Meg, seated across from them and in between Henri and Julia, also kept her eyes out the window. It wasn't as if she hated the fact that her mother was in love; she was truly happy that Erik brought a smile to her face and life to her eyes. But the ballerina had grown up without a father's guidance, and she wasn't sure exactly how she would ever get used to it. But Erik was a good man, and her mother would help him learn what he needed to. That being said, she wondered just how he'd act when the time came for her to fall in love. _How protective is he going to be?_ She could just picture him conversing with her future beau for the first time, a punjab in his hand and ready to be put to use should the wrong thing be said. Suppressing a groan at the thought, she focused all the more on the trees whizzing by.

"How are you, Julia?" Henri finally broke the silence. The first day of travel would soon be over, and the driver would inevitably start searching out the nearest inn. It was awkward for him to lean forward so he could see her around Meg, but he knew there was a good reason for her being there. Even now, he longed to be holding his love in his arms, easing her pain in any way he could.

"I'm well, Henri...just tired..." She threw him a smile, not wanting to give a voice to her pain and stiffness.

"We should be stopping shortly, and you can go to bed after a nice hot meal..." Antoinette assured her.

"That sounds wonderful..." The words were spoken with more relief than she'd intended, and the tension was broken as everyone laughed. By the time they finally stopped, however, Erik had to carry his sleeping sister up to one of the rooms before the others could begin their meal.

**The remainder **of the journey was fairly uneventful, and they pulled up to the Dupree residence two evenings later. By now, Erik was practically frozen with nervousness, but Julia was anxious to see how their mother was faring. The windows were lit, and she took that as a promising sign. Still, she felt hate toward her aches and pains for keeping her from dashing inside. Seeming to read her thoughts, Henri lifted her into his arms and carried her to the door. This action seemed to shake Erik out of his frozen state, and he quickly followed, ready to scold the boy for his forwardness toward his sister. Before he could open his mouth, however, the door was swung open, revealing a boy just a few years younger than Julia. As soon as he laid eyes on Erik, recognition flooded his face and he ran back inside the cottage. "Mother! My brother has come home!" He could be heard exclaiming, and relief filled Julia that her mother was still alive. He returned moments later, grinning widely. "Please...come in!" Julia could have been invisible then as he took Erik's hand and pulled him inside, but at this point, she didn't really care. Erik would be loved a thousand times over, she knew. Just that thought filled her with so much warmth, and she barely noticed Henri setting her down on the sofa before sitting next to her. Antoinette and Meg soon joined them, and once their bags had been set inside and the driver had been paid, he made his way back toward Paris.

**"Come closer my son..."** Madame Dupree struggled to sit up, and she was quickly aided by her remaining children. Erik carefully made his way to the bedside, his head spinning with mixed feelings. He'd built up so much hatred toward this woman before him, but seeing how weak she had become, his heart began to soften. Once he'd gotten close enough, her shaky hands came up to touch his face. "Oh, my son...what have I done to you?"

"Do not burden yourself any longer...M—Mother..." As the word escaped his lips, the tears began all over again. How he'd longed for this...the comfort of his mothers touch...knowing that he'd never go unloved again. Overwhelmed with everything that had happened within the past week, Erik collapsed to his knees, his head falling to the mattress beside his mother's shoulder. Slowly, she brought her hand to his shaking shoulders, the old lullaby upon her lips in her shaky, soft voice that spoke of one filled with memories and longing.

**Erik didn't leave** his mother's side until the morning; he would have refused supper had Madame Dupree not insisted. "If I can eat my broth, you can certainly eat the meal your siblings have prepared." Surprised but grateful for her motherly firmness, he could do nothing but agree to the food. As for the others, Julia was grateful to be in her own bed, with Meg sleeping on a makeshift cot in her room. Antoinette was quite comfortable on the sofa, and Henri gladly took one of the armchairs across the living room. Philippe, Jeanette, Pierre, and Marie had all been curious about the visitors, but they agreed that details could wait until after everyone had rested. Good nights were said soon after the dishes had been done, and as all went to their separate beds, their thoughts were on the mother and son reuniting in the next room.

The next morning found Julia, Antoinette, and Julia's sisters all making an appearance in the kitchen at different times, all wanting to be the one to prepare breakfast. With each appearance, however, there was no resentment, but hushed laughter. Finally, Julia was convinced to return to her bed to rest further. She would have protested, but the throbbing of her bruises made it easier to give in. Not wanting to return to her bed, however, she settled on the now empty sofa, watching the sleeping form of Henri. At first, she blushed, but seeing that Madame Giry made no objection, she let her mind wander to all that had happened since they'd met. She knew what she felt toward him was true love; the kind of love her mother had taught her from the Bible years ago. "Love is patient, love is kind..." The familiar passage from 1 Corinthians 13 floated through her mind, then, and she leaned back on the sofa with a soft smile on her face.

**"Julia, my love...breakfast is ready..."** Her eyes fluttered open, immediately meeting Henri's caring gaze.

"Was I asleep?" She slowly sat up, and he nodded.

"You looked like an angel..." His lips brushed against her temple, his fingers smoothing out her hair. _As did you..._she wanted to point out, but such a comment would surely be found inappropriate. Not to mention she was almost certain that her face was already red enough. "Shall I escort you to breakfast, darling?" He offered his arm with such formality for such a humble setting that she giggled slightly.

"I'm ready, Monsieur..." she placed her hand upon his and allowed him to lead her the ten steps to the kitchen table.

**By the time** Philippe went into his mother's room to announce the noon meal, Erik had filled her in on all that he had been through. As much as he'd tried, some of his old bitterness crept through as he relayed his story, and more tears were shed by the both of them. "Oh, Mother, don't cry...you...you couldn't have known..." he gently brushed at her tears, fighting back his own.

"I...just...how could I have been so cruel to send you away from my loving arms?"

"A very wise woman recently told me that the past is past, and there's nothing we can do to change it. We can, however, change the present and the future..." A small smile spread across his face, and his mother slowly returned it.

"And who might this woman be? Your eyes speak of the deepest love..."

"I see I cannot fool my own mother, can I?" Erik chuckled a bit. When Philippe made his appearance at the door, the request was made for Julia to bring their visitors to meet Madame Dupree. All were greeted warmly, and though she was surprised, she readily gave her blessing for the two weddings to take place. To this, Henri grinned and spun Julia around with joy. As for Erik, he was stunned. He was sure of the love he felt for Antoinette Giry, but marriage? _Am I really ready? Where would we live?_ His eyes moved past Antoinette to where Meg was standing off to the side, quietly watching the scene. She was already a promising dancer, and to take her out of the opera house would be devastating. He realized then that he would have to get one more blessing before he could even consider a marriage, and he vowed to have a talk with Little Giry before too much time had passed. For the present, he simply gave Antoinette's hand a gentle squeeze, and she was satisfied with that. _Let my sister have her young love. My turn will come in time._ Silently, they all watched as Henri finally slid the diamond ring onto Julia's finger before their lips came together once more.

**That night, **Madame Dupree's health took a turn for the worst. Autumn would soon be upon them, and with it came a chill to the evening air. Pierre quickly had a fire going, and more blankets were brought to wrap the elderly woman up in. Sending everyone away to rest and to pray, Erik took his position sitting beside his mother's bed, gently stroking her hair. "Don't leave me, Mother...don't leave me...not yet..." Selfishly, he silently cried out to God to allow his mother to see his wedding. _She deserves it! She's suffered so much...show her Your mercy!_ He was still unsure if he was ready for such a commitment, but it pained him to think that after so much longing, she would not be present at such an important ceremony. _I have not asked for much. In fact, I've always been the first to curse You...but if You are at all loving and just...please...I beg You...do this one thing...for her..._ Looking through blurry eyes, he tucked the blankets tighter around her before finally crying himself to sleep curled up next to her to keep her all the warmer.

_**A/N: Nuuuuuu I see those plastic forks and punjabs and I will not be threatened! More tomorrow, I promise! Keep the feedback coming! Stay tuned! :)**_


	8. Wedding Preparations

_**A/N: See? I'm a writer of my word! Put away your weapons and simmer down. Thanks again for the feedback! As always, I do not own Phantom of the Opera or any of its characters!**_

__**Two days later, **Philippe left for the village to fetch the priest. Erik stubbornly planted himself at his mother's bedside, and every second that he wasn't eating, he was praying fervently. Even Antoinette could not persuade him to join them for meals. "She can't leave...she can't..." he looked at his love with pleading, teary eyes, and Antoinette wrapped her arms around him.

"You've been praying so much, Erik. Now you must trust God. He kept you both alive all these years so that you would still meet and mend the wounds between you. While the things in your past did not seem fair at the time, they all worked together for this reunion to happen. Whatever happens now, know that it will be for the best." Tenderly, she brushed at his tears, and he slowly nodded.

"I'll...I'll trust Him..." He gave her hand a gentle squeeze then, and as she stood, a light knock sounded at the door before Meg stepped in. She was holding something behind her back, and Antoinette motioned her forward. Once she was close enough, she placed the object into Erik's hands.

"Mother thought you might want this here..." Stepping back, she watched as Erik lifted the music box that Julia had gotten him. "Perhaps...if you play it for her..." Caressing the tiny organ, Erik slowly looked at Antoinette.

"You know me so well, my love..." At that, she slowly smiled.

"Well, go on...play it..." Standing next to her daughter, the ballet mistress watched as he slowly wound it up. The now familiar tune repeated a couple times before he slowly began singing the words his mother had taught him. Turning to face the sleeping woman, he did not notice when Antoinette and Meg left to give him privacy.

**Later that day, **Erik had nearly cried himself to sleep again when he heard his mother's voice pick up where the music box had left off. Slowly, he felt her hand come to his shoulder, and he forced himself to look, unsure if this would just be a wishful dream. But no, his mother's eyes were upon him, filled with such a tender love. "Burden yourself no longer, my son...I'm here..."

"Oh, Mother!" He carefully hugged her close, releasing his tears once more.

**By the time** the priest arrived that evening, he was stunned at the sight before him. "From what you said, Monsieur Dupree, I can see that this is nothing short of a miracle!" He commented to Philippe, who was equally stunned.

"Would you care for some coffee since you're here?" Marie was already holding the pot in her hand.

"That sounds perfect!" As the priest took a seat at the table, Henri slowly approached him.

"Pardon me, but I would hate for your journey to be for nothing..."

**"What's troubling you,** my son?" Madame Dupree softly touched Erik's arm, bringing him back to the present. The priest had agreed to perform the wedding between Henri and Julia, as soon as Monsieur Reyer could arrive from Paris. Julia would wear her mother's wedding gown, and Erik would walk her down the aisle in place of their deceased father. Antoinette, Meg, and the sisters had taken Julia to the village to shop, and Henri had been the one to go to Paris to fetch his father. The sudden silence in the house was only emphasized as Erik had sat deep in thought. Now, he sighed in response to his mother, making no effort to hide his feelings.

"I cannot marry Antoinette, mother...at least not anytime soon. I cannot ask her to live in my dungeons, but I cannot take Meg away from her dancing. A house in the city is out of the question, at least for me..."

"Have you discussed this with them?"

"I cannot...I would only hurt her..." He sighed again before looking at her. "How did you know when you and Father were ready?"

"Oh child...that was so long ago..." Her face changed then as she searched her memories for the answer. "This cottage was built by him. He asked for very little help in accomplishing the task...we'd been living in the village then, and the day he began courting me, he vowed that he would wed me as soon as the cottage was complete. I'd thought him to be just another romantic full of daydreams, but I watched him work himself to the bone, doing various tasks to raise the money for lumber and tools, then work all the harder to make the cottage just right for us. When I saw the sacrifice he made, that's when I knew...that's when I knew that he loved me, and I him, and he would be the provider while I comforted, encouraged, and supported him. I knew that...we'd be able to face whatever life threw at us..." Her voice faded as the tears took over, and Erik pulled her into a gentle hug. Minutes later, she took several deep breaths before continuing. "Erik, I cannot speak for your own heart. But if you really and truly know that you love her, and she you...you'll know because you'll be willing to do whatever it takes for her...you'll be willing to overcome any obstacle and set aside your own comforts to ensure that you will be together. But Erik..." she took his hand in hers, making sure he was paying attention. "Talk to her. She needs to know how you feel."

**"You...wished to see me?"** Meg questioned from Madame Dupree's door. It was the next day, and Erik had sent Pierre to fetch the dancer.

"I did. Perhaps you would care for a walk outside? It won't be long before the days get too cold." He was already pulling on a coat that had once been his father's, and Meg silently nodded.

Once outside, they were silent for several moments, stopping occasionally to pluck a golden leaf off the ground. Finally, they happened upon a bench, and Erik motioned for her to sit. As she did, he began pacing. "Meg...you're a clever girl...perhaps you have already guessed what this is about..."

"It's about my mother, isn't it?" Her voice had no trace of bitterness, but it wasn't joyful either.

"It is. You already know that we love each other...but I would like to hear what you have to say about that."

"Why should it matter how I feel? I cannot keep you from loving each other..." She looked down, and he could tell that she was stalling for time.

"Meg, I value your opinion on the matter. I will not move forward if it would make you uncomfortable. She was your mother before these feelings came to light. I do not want you to feel like I mean to take her from you."

"I...I don't know how I feel. I grew up my entire life not having a father...I'm...I don't know what it will be like...or...or whether I truly need-" She stopped herself, but he knew what she was going to say. Before he could speak up, however, she continued. "It...would just take me some getting used to..."

"Meg, this will be a new experience for all of us. I will need to get used to having a wife and a daughter...people who love me...you will need to get used to having a father, and your mother will have to get used to splitting her time between a husband and you. You see, you don't have to go through this uncertainty alone..." Slowly, he lowered himself to the bench next to her, but she still didn't look up.

"She was already splitting her time before..."

"I know, Meg...and a great deal of that is my fault. But if we were to marry, then she would not be disappearing so much. She would have her duties during rehearsals and productions, but the rest of the time...we'd be a family..."

"It sounds like your mind has been made up..."

"Meg, please. Do you want me to marry your mother? Say the word, and I will leave things as they were."

"I just don't know, Monsieur...I couldn't bear to see either one of you hurt...but I just don't know! Please...don't give me such responsibility!" With that, the dancer was running back toward the cottage, oblivious to him calling her name.

**Monsieur Reyer arrived** the following day. Julia ran out to meet the carriage, showing how much she had healed from the attack. Henri jumped down and swept her into a loving embrace before his father could make his way over to them, but the elder man did not seem to mind. Finally, the couple pulled apart so that Monsieur Reyer could officially greet his future daughter-in-law. The scene went unnoticed, however, by Erik, Antoinette, and Meg. Upon arriving back to the cottage the previous day, he had gone straight to his mother's room, and had she not been sleeping, he would have slammed the door. Antoinette had immediately noticed this and had stopped Meg from ascending the stairs to Julia's room. She could get nowhere, however, and so she'd eventually released her daughter to her sulking. She knew Erik would be equally stubborn, and so she'd thrown herself into last minute preparations for the upcoming wedding. Now, all were lost in their own thoughts, and only when Monsieur Reyer had set his bags down next to the sofa did Antoinette turn from the sink. "Jaques! How good to see you!"

"Antoinette...I do believe this country air has done you good, though the ballet misses you considerably."

"Well they're going to have to do without me sooner or later. How was your journey?"

"A bit tiring. I can't remember the last time I was on such a long carriage ride."

"Well I'm sure Erik and Julia's family will see to your rest and comfort while you're here." As if on cue, Pierre soon appeared, Monsieur Reyer's bags already in hand.

"Come, I'll show you to your room..." The youth was soon gone, and Monsieur Reyer gratefully followed. As Antoinette watched them, her eyes landed on Meg, now standing at the top of the stairs.

"What do you mean, Mother? Are you leaving the opera?"

"I will be, one way or another, either by circumstance or by death. But I'll give you plenty of warning either way. Now please...tell me what has upset you so." She reached out her hand, and Meg slowly came downstairs. They sat down on the sofa, and Meg soon relayed the conversation from the day before. "Oh, Meg...I'm sure he did not mean to pressure you so...you must forgive him. This is a very new idea for all of us..."

"But what if I say the wrong thing too quickly? I don't wish to be the one that breaks you apart..."

"You won't be, my dear. Whatever is decided, it will be decided after we've all had plenty of time to think and to get to know each other. Perhaps he feels rushed because of his mother's health. If that is the case, I will talk with him later. But I don't want you to feel more responsible than you really are. We love you, Meg, and we only want what's best."

"I...should apologize then..." Meg looked toward Madame Dupree's bedroom door, and Antoinette hugged her close.

"I'll go get him. Perhaps it is time for us all to sit down and talk this over together."

_**A/N: Okay, that was close. This chapter nearly took me all day to write, including several interruptions. But I will NOT let this story go unfinished before I go back to school! Please, keep the feedback coming! Final chapter and possible epilogue will be published tomorrow, so stay tuned! :)**_


	9. Tying Loose Knots

_**A/N: Okay, I'm definitely sad to say that this is the last chapter, but as I type it's 7:24PM and I'll be on the road back to school in exactly 12 hours. For those of you who don't know, ffnet is blocked at the school I go to, so this is my last chance to upload before June. But, I am glad that I'm not leading you down a dead end! So thank you so much for the continued feedback and support. Though I can't always get back to each reviewer, I can say that each one is read and greatly appreciated. You have no idea how much motivation you all give me, so thank you, thank you, thank you! As always, I do not own Phantom of the Opera or any of its characters!**_

__**Before Erik agreed** to discuss things all together, he and Antoinette spent an hour with his mother, talking through their options. What was decided upon finally sat well with Erik, and though it would be a huge step out of his comfort zone, he knew the woman at his side was more than worth it. Now, they watched as Madame Dupree retrieved three rings from her bedside drawer. "I'll have no use for these in the grave, my son. I insist you put them to use." Taking the rings from her, he saw that one was an engagement ring, and the other two were wedding bands.

"Mother, are you certain?"

"I've never been more sure in my life. I wish you all the happiness I had, Erik, if not more."

"Mother...I..." he was tearing up, and Madame Dupree knew he'd be sobbing again if she didn't do something.

"Now go have that talk with Meg. Perhaps when she hears you out, her mind will change."

"Thank you, Mother..." he hugged her anyway before slipping the rings into his pocket. Helping Antoinette to her feet, they made their way out to where Meg was sitting on the sofa. She had obviously been crying, and Erik's heart ached to see the expression on her face. Antoinette got to her first, pulling her into a hug as she sat down. Not wanting to crowd the girl, Erik instead sat upon the armchair and leaned forward, waiting for her tears to dry. "Meg, I am aware of your worries about leaving the opera. I want you to know that that is farthest from my plans."

"In fact, my dear, Erik has a wonderful surprise for you."

"What is it?" Meg looked over at him warily.

"Meg...how would you like me to train your voice?"

"My...my voice? To...to sing?"

"Your mother has told me how you stand off in the wings, singing quietly as you wait for your cues. From what she says, you have great potential."

"But what of my dancing?"

"I see no reason why you cannot do both. Think of it: 'The Opera Populaire presents Marguerite Giry-The Singing Ballerina'..."

"But only if you wish it, Meg. This is the only decision you need to make now. Erik and I will not pressure you any further."

"But...but I thought...you wanted to know what I want..."

"I know, Meg, and I apologize for demanding an answer. I should have known how hard that was for you. I myself wasn't sure if I wanted to see my mother, even after we got here. But knowing that Julia at least cared for me, and when she told me our mother felt the same, I knew that if I didn't at least try, I'd live to regret it. Meg, you already said that you know your mother and I love each other. All we ask is that you try."

"I...I'll try..." Meg was on the verge of tears again, and Antoinette tightened the hug. Slowly, Erik moved over to the sofa, completing the hug.

"Thant you, Meg...for believing in me..." As he said this, both Girys knew he was speaking of their first meeting so long ago, and now, as he had then, he vowed to never let her down.

**Two days later, **both couples were wed in the backyard of the cottage, Madame Dupree sitting proudly yet teary-eyed in the front and center. Her gown fit her eldest daughter perfectly, as if it were made specifically for her. Antoinette wanted no fuss, but she'd accepted a gown offered by one of the village women. However, she'd insisted she was only borrowing it for the occasion. "You look quite lovely in white, my dear..." Erik commented at the quiet reception. "The black shade you usually wore seemed to trap you in your grief."

"Well you have made me very happy, Erik. I never thought I could feel so in love."

"I just hope that I might live up to your expectations."

"Oh, Erik, I have no doubt of that. Please, do not attempt to compare yourself to my first husband. That was one chapter in my life, and now we are starting an entire new one. I love you, and that is all that matters."

"And I love you, Antoinette Dupree..." The statement was sealed with a passionate kiss, but they pulled apart moments later, just as the sisters brought out the simple yet elegant cake.

**Epilogue**

** Madame Christine Dupree** passed away peacefully in her sleep that evening. Soon after the meal was finished, she'd excused herself to take a nap, and she was asleep as soon as Philippe helped her into bed. By the time the couples went to bid their good byes for the night, before they made their way to the village inn for their honeymoons, she had already gone on to join her husband in Paradise. Instead of being bitter as he'd imagined, Erik looked toward the sky with thankfulness that God had let her witness the ceremony just as he'd prayed for. He knew that he could now face the future with the knowledge of God's goodness. His siblings told him not to worry about burial arrangements; he had a wedding night to get to. It was decided that Meg would stay at the cottage with them, helping out whenever she could, an arrangement she readily agreed to.

**Henri and Julia Reyer** decided to settle within the village. Henri purchased a small shop with living quarters behind and above it, and he soon had a thriving business selling instruments and giving lessons. Each evening, their neighbors had the privilege of listening into the violin duet coming from the upstairs as the couple sat in front of their fireplace, enjoying the quiet simplicity of each others presence. And never again did Julia have to fear the man with the rubbery face. Her husband provided warmth, safety, and most importantly, love that was shared with her and their children and grandchildren for the rest of their days.

**Erik and Antoinette Dupree** soon moved into a house a block away from the opera house. Though he was at first nervous about stepping outside, he gradually made the effort to watch the performances, and then the rehearsals, all from Box Five. When he wasn't training Meg's voice, he was writing operas to be performed. Just as he'd expected, Meg gradually progressed in her career as her singing improved.

A year after their wedding, Erik and Antoinette welcomed a new addition into their family: a healthy baby girl which they readily named Christine, after Erik's mother. Meg was thrilled to have a sister, and Erik could not help but often dream about the day they would both perform in the operas he wrote. _Meg will be the prima ballerina...and Christine will most certainly be the prima donna. I will train her voice just as I have trained Meg's...and the public shall adore them both..._

_**A/N: I'm having to drag myself away right now. Normally, each chapter is 3 Word Doc pages long. This is only 2. But I've run out of ideas, and I hate putting in random things just to fill up space. I also hate reading stories where they drag out the complications until the very last minute and then the couple is rushed through an engagement and wedding, and yet I've done that here. For that I deeply apologize. Thank you once again for reading so faithfully. Now, while you wait for June, I encourage you to read my other stories if you haven't done so already. If you have...well...there are other stories. Or you could just watch POTO all over again and perhaps get inspiration for your own stories. Thank you again, and stay tuned for my next story-whichever it may be! :)**_


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